Home Is Where The Heart Is
by RESONANCE2345
Summary: After doing a quest quite far away from his home in Whiterun, Thane and Dragonborn Zereth Tree-Tail rides home. A sort of character intro for the multi-chapter fic I have planned. Rated T for minor gore.


**A/N: Well... I'mma gonna be doing two multi-chapter fics. One of 'em being a Skyrim fic, this is more just a oneshot (maybe a second chapter if erryone likes it) to introduce my OC. I really can't be bothered explaining much, so just read it -.- **

**Like always, Read, Rate, Review and ENJOY!**

Shadowmere's hooves beat down upon the frozen dirt of Skyrim, an equally shadowy figure bearing upon the horse's back. Clad head-to-toe in the sinister-looking armour of a Nightingale with the mask of the Dragon Priest Krosis pulled over his face, the Argonian was truly a sight to behold. He came to a slow trot as a roadside tavern loomed up in the distance, a sigh of relief eminating the Dragonborn's lips as he brought the mask up, stopping near the inn and lashing his horse to a nearby tree before striding towards the entrance. He swung the creaky wooden door open and stamped the little amount of snow that clung stubbornly to his boots, flicking the hood back over his head. Zereth completely disregarded the odd looks cast his way and the sudden hush hush tone that lay over the room as he made his way to the innkeeper, a young Nordic man with shoulder-length blonde hair. His tail swayed a little as he dropped a coin purse onto the bar and spoke, his raspy tone cutting above the near-silence of the room,

"A bed for the night and a bottle of warm mead." He said, to which the Nord nodded and took the coinage,

"Right this way, sir. I'll get the mead shortly." The Innkeeper replied as he walked towards another door, pushing it open and earning a nod of thanks from Zereth. The lanky Argonian stepped into his room and sat on the bed's edge, waiting patiently for the mead to be brought to him. After he obtained the two bottles of sweet golden liquid, Zereth laid out on the bed and immediately went to chugging the contents of the bottle down. He set it next to a candle and smiled a little to himself, a rare occurrence. He sat up once again and began to remove the layers of armour and warming cloth until he was in a simple tunic and leggings, pausing for a moment to examine the brand on his wrist. He shook away a thought and laid back down on the bed, closing his eyes and attempting to sleep, which was thankfully successful. Maybe the fact he was awake for three days straight when riding home from Solitude helped his drop into slumber. Though he did stir occasionally from a noise outside, since he was a light sleeper.

When he awoke, it was not to the sounds of a Bandit ambush, nor a roaring Dragon overhead, it was to the simple sounds of birds chirping and slight conversation a room over. A smile once again graced the Dovahkiin's face as he sat up,

"A perfect morning. Something's bound to happen today." He chuckled to himself as he slid out of the bed and began to re-clothe himself with the Nightingale's Armour. He thanked the Innkeeper once again as he left, unleashing Shadowmere and clambering onto the great beast's back, setting off down the path. He brought a small apple from his saddle pouch and began to eat it, having not put Krosis back on in the time he left, and being thankful for the calm day ahead of him. He bowed his head in a small prayer to the Eight and One, wishing himself a safe journey on his last leg home. He was just about leaving the more frozen section of Skyrim and entering the sprawling plains that was Whiterun Hold. He pulled his cloak around him a little, looking around the vast scenery of the wilderness before him, the silence giving him some time to think about what brought him to the seemingly inhospitable land. Though all good things must come to an end, as a large Orc striding towards him and Shadowmere brought Zereth back to reality,

"Hey, this is a taxed road. Pay up." Said the bandit, setting one hand on his blade as the other clutched a Steel shield. Zereth rolled his eyes and got down, reaching under his cloak for what the Orismer assumed was his coinpurse, but was instead greeted by the cold metal of Mehrune's Razor pressed to the green flesh of his neck,

"I'd rather keep my gold, thanks. And if you were wise enough, you'd turn the other cheek, otherwise I might be forced to cut it off." Spoke Zereth, his voice sounding sinister and murderous in the Orc's ear. But the bandit was stubborn and attempted to draw his blade, but was immediately cut off by the Daedric Artefact sliding swiftly across his throat, causing him to fall to his knees as he choked on his own blood. Zereth dropped to a crouch and began to sneak to the small Bandit camp nestled within a tower. He peeked around a corner to see two more bandits conversing, he drew the Elven bow off his back and nocked an arrow, pulling it back and loosing it. The arrow struck home in one of the bandit's chest, sending the unfortunate soul flying back to the ground. Zereth stood and quickly fired another arrow, killing the second one before he got a chance to swing his mighty greatsword at the Argonian. A small fight later, and Zereth was back on the road with a simple enchanted dagger and about one hundred Septims nestled in his pouch. Despite the fact he'd been travelling slow all this time, as soon as he saw the tip of Dragonsreach poke into view, he kicked on Shadowmere's sides and broke out into a full sprint, not even caring about a path as he charged straight towards the city, his cloak flaring out behind him as he held fast onto the reins. Thanks to the horse's speed, Zereth was at the gates in little to no time at all. Once again dismounting and setting the horse in the stables, he set off towards the gates with a large and heavy sack slung over his shoulder, filled with goods to trade and sell.

"Greetings, Dragonborn." Said a guard as he stepped up to the gate,

"Good day, guardsman. Any trouble whilst I've been gone?" He asked, to which both gate guards shook their heads. Zereth sighed in relief and stepped into the city, striding towards his home with no hesitation at all. He pushed the door open to his... Unfortunately, empty home. The frills on the back of his head dropped a little as he set the sack down, going about setting a small fire for him to light when he returned. He looked himself over and headed upstairs, going about changing into a set of less... Noticeable clothes. He lifted the hefty sack again and stepped out into Whiterun, taking a left towards Warmaiden's. Despite him and the owner being decent friends, they always had a hard time negotiating a decent price for the weapons and armour he brought back, as they were always enchanted and were way better priced then what Ulfrith said they were. After leaving a few hundred gold pieces richer, Zereth jiggled the two-thirds empty sack, earning the clanks and clinks of potion bottles, so with that he set towards Arcadia's Cauldron. Though he did pause and stare at Ysolda for a moment. He remembered a little something he'd promised the girl for when he returned and made a mental note before stepping into the shop. And once again, a haggling war broke out over the prices of Elixirs, Philtres and Draughts of all kinds. Zereth grumbled as he left with not as much coin as he expected, tipping the stuff into his fairly large coinpurse and attaching it to his belt, along with the now-empty cloth sack. He headed back home and flicked a small burst of flame at the readied hearth, setting it alight as he grabbed a Mammoth Tusk from a shelf, heading out once again.

Ysolda was just - and conveniently - finishing up some buisness when Zereth arrived, clutching the tusk under his arm. He watched the look on her face change to suprise,

"I said I'd get it, didn't I?" He said, being his usual hard-to-read self. Ysolda clasped her hands together,

"Oh my-... Thank you so much. It really does mean the world to me. I'll finally be able to get in good with some of the Khajiit trading caravans," She smiled at the Thane of Whiterun as he handed over the tusk. She stared at the Amulet of Mara strung around his neck for a moment before dismissing a thought and fishing out some coin,

"And here, for your troubles." She slid the pouch over and he took it, nodding in thanks,

"I'll be sure to stop by from time to time." He said before walking away. Once he was safely within his home and sat in front of his fire, Zereth yawned and stretched, scratching one of his horns. His mind drifted to and fro as he stared at the glowing embers of the fire, switching between thoughts of where he came from, where he might go and what the journey was in between. At that time, he was perfectly happy to stay there forever, but something at the back of his mind said a piece was missing, possibly a special someone to be there to greet him with open arms, to keep the fire going when he was out doing a quest for Jarl Balgruuf. The small things.

He pulled the amulet off his neck and stared at it,

"Despite me wearing you nearly all the time, I never seem to get a second glance from the godess of love." He murmured, tail curling around his waist. He shook his head and set the amulet down on the table beside him before standing and walking to his back room, staring at the Alchemist's Table. He reached into a chest and brought out a few ingredients, tipping them one by one into a pestle and mortar. Slowly and carefully he brewed the potion, not quite sure why he was combining the ingredients he was, but after the dark blue liquid poured out into a bottle, he knew he'd done something right. He tasted it and shuddered, the bitter taste cutting right through him, but re-invigorating him somewhat. A potion of stamina. He noted down the ingredients and walked back out, unsure of how to spend his evening. Eventually he settled down and started reading over a copy of 'Immortal Blood', a preferred book of his. Despite his best attempts to keep focused on the book in his hands, his eyes drifted to another book tucked away in a hard to see part of the shelf... 'The Lusty Argonian Maid'. He shuddered at the last time he got caught reading that as a hatchling and merely looked back to the tale in his hands.

And with that, Zereth's evening played out calmly and quietly. Just how he liked it...

**A/N: And there it is. It's not the best character intro, I admit, but it's the best I've got at 5 AM. Now if you'll excuse me, I'mma go get some sleep. **

**Oh, before I forget, the multi-chapter fic I'm doing might need a few other characters in it's list, but I'm an unoriginal sod. So... GIMME YER INSPERETERN (inspiration). Or you can ask for your character to get featured in it. Idunno. It'll be slow, though, since my laptop's broken and I'm actually writing most of my stories with the in-site writing program thingy. Anyhoo, I will see you in the next whatever-I-make!**


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